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Day seventy-five

Does anyone ever feel good waking up after a night of clubbing? The dull headache, leftover taste of gin and tonic and cosmopolitan, the hand stamp that doesn’t seem to come off despite intense scrubbing, the funny photos you don’t quite remember taking. This is how I feel this morning – unfortunately. And the reason I never go out to bars on the weekend (also because I work at a bar on the weekend). I would much rather a nice bottle of wine and good food, in the company of someone I care about.

But alas, that is not what last night was about. I thought it was important to have the bar/club scene represented in my dating month. It was a date with my friend to go out and pick up. The uniform: a cute dress (a little chest revealed as a tease) and high heels. She picked the venue, as my expert and guide for the evening into the world of drunk people trying to get laid.

The moment we walked into the bar two boys (well, not actually boys, but much younger than we are) started talking to us. “What’s a good shot to have?” was The Military Guy’s opening line. Him and his buddy, The Marketing Guy, seemed nice, so I asked them for a photo (see above). They sent us on a scavenger hunt to find The Marketing Guy’s twin – a mission we quickly abandoned to scope out the bar.

My friend is texting people she knows who might be out: “What are you up to?” The Pirate from Day sixty-four makes an appearance looking dapper in a shirt and tie. I run into a guy I used to work with. The Marketing Guy comes back to chat about an amazing tattoo he has along the side of his body. My friend decides we should drink cosmos.

As last call approaches, the intensity of the dance floor accelerates – everyone is trying to take someone home with them. Guys fall over each other to dance with the cute ladies (or the not-so-cute ladies – by last call I don’t think it really matters to them as long as it’s a warm body). One guy approaches me and tries to buy me a drink – an epic failure as he can’t seem to focus long enough to stand up, let alone ask the bartender for anything (and also great, as the three drinks I had was plenty for me). My friend gives The Marketing Guy her number. We take a cab back to her place where I pick up my stuff and head home, so happy to have fulfilled that part of the dating scene and not having to return there in a long time! No pick up, but I’m so fine with that.